Wrestler's Real Name: Dimitri Mikhail Watson

Wrestler Age/Date of Birth: 06 August 1996 / 28

Height: 5'11"

Weight: 176 lbs

Hometown: Moscow, Russia -- but CLAIMS London, England

Alignment: 
Chaotic Neutral -- Dickie Watson doesn't play the game the way it was written. He's not a hero, he's not villain, and definitely not some trumped up anti-hero with poor social skills but wants to be loved. He does what he wants, when he wants and is driven by instinct more than something you can place in an ambiguous moral alignment. People like him for what he's survived, not what he represents. His likability is incidental -- his violence is not. 

Pic Base: Will Ramos

Backstory/Important Character Details: 
In his rookie years, you would have known Dickie as THE GOOD GUY™. He was on the side of justice, the side of doing the right thing, the side of naive optimism that tends to was over limelighted eyes. Like this sport always seems to do to everyone upon their entrance and continuation in the feel, Dickie's adjustments to his personal psyche have gone from THE UNDERDOG™ to something more of a consequence. He used to fight like the world was watching and it cared -- but years in the industry, compounded but a significant amount of trauma and the quiet weight of legacy have weathered him. 

He doesn't have a chip on his shoulder -- his name carries history. He's tired of being overlooked. Not because he lacked heart, but because he's never been looked at completely like he should win. His persona isn't something you would expect from a multi-time World Champion. He doesn't care. He spent most of his life proving that the loudest voices aren't the ones you should follow and that the even the most unassuming can be venomous.

There's something still kind in him -- he treats people with respect unless they've earned the opposite. However, it's tempered now, dulled by exhaustion. He'll still be a positive influence, he'll still have your back, and he'll still be cheered at most places. But he's not here to lie about how much all of it costs. There's weight in survival, and he carries it with pride.

People doubt him. They always have. And it pisses him off -- but he's stopped waiting for approval. Stopped waiting for people to recognize his talent and abilities. 

Strengths:
1. DO OR DIE - Dickie knows the survival isn't about size, it's about instinct. He's used to being outmatched, outsized and underestimated. He reads his opponents like puzzles, watching everything: body language, breathing, how a wrist shifts before a lariat. His ability to anticipate isn't instinct, but a trained hunger. He's been a student of the game long enough not to necessarily play fair, but to last longer than anyone else on the board. When the tide turns, he recalibrates. He's taken out men twice his weight and held gold longer than anyone thought possible...not because he's stronger, but because he refused to die quietly. 

2. AGILITY - FAST doesn't begin to cover it. Speed isn't just style choice, it's a necessity. Dickie moves like a man you already knows where you'll be before you do, and his offense flows like a system reboot: efficient, quick and punishing if you miss you cue. He doesn't rely on brute strength to turn a match -- he uses physics, angles, leverage and precision. A Molotov in more than spirit, his body has become a spring-loaded weapon, launching in a out of danger zones with enough unpredictability to rattle even the most seasoned heavyweight. His speed isn't just reaction, it's all about intentionality. He flies, he sprints, he twists reality, creating all of it as a weapon to gain a second more -- and in this business, sometimes a second is everything. 

3. RESILIENCE - You can bleed him. You can break him. It doesn't matter. Dickie gets up. Always. It may look like blood on canvas and bones that still move even when they shouldn't, but no matter the cost, Dickie will always try to rise. He doesn't just endure pain, he tends to absorb it. Pain isn't a signal to stop, it's a reminder that he's still in it. Maybe it's pride, maybe it's spite, but the crowd's roar doesn't just pull him up off the mat, his memory does. The people who left, the ones who doubted him. The things he refused to let define him. He's not unbreakable, he just never stays broken. 

Weaknesses:
1. LIGHTWEIGHT - While Dickie's body is built for speed, it's certainly not built for impact. At 176 pounds, he walks into nearly every fight at a physical disadvantage. His strikes don't particularly attle bones the way heavier opponents can, and if he gets grounded, it takes everything in him to claw any form of momentum back. Survival means placing himself in dangerous positions, taking aerial risks that could either end a match with a decisive win or his body in a bag. There's no margin for error, and when your style is high velocity, one misstep is all it takes to crash to oblivion. 

2. BELIEF - For all the cynicism he wears on his sleeve, there's still a part of Dickie that believes people mean what they say. That loyalty matters and love isn't just a currency to be traded. His trust in people has dwindled, but when he lets people in, he lets them all the way in, and that's where damage can happen. Cheap shots blindsided him not because he doesn't see them coming, but because he chooses not to believe they will. That hope makes him vulnerable in a way he will never admit. 

3. VOLATILITY - Over the years, there's been a fracture line beneath Dickie's skin that is hairline thin, but very deep, and has been growing. He can hold himself together right up until he cn't, and when that moment hits, he doesn't fht smare --he fights honest. Raw. Messy. There's nothing measured about it. He becomes pure reaction, lashing out without care for strategy, safety, or consequence. It's dangerous, not only to his opponent, but primarily to himself. He doesn't always know where the line until he's already crossed it.   

Entrance Theme Music: “DEATHLIST” -- Code: Pandorum w/ GHØSTKID



Ring Entrance: 
The lights die without warning. Not a fade, but a full blackout that sucks the air out of the arena like the calm before a fire. Then, a strobing light, lime green, flares beneath the metal of the floor. Another, quicker and sharper. A third, holding longer now. Long enough for the crowd to catch a glimpse of the static forming on the screen overhead.

The distorted bass of “DEATHLIST” by Code: Pandorum and GHØSTKID blares across the arena’s speaker system low, grinding and industrial. It doesn't start like music, but more like a warning. Like the hum of something broken beneath concrete.The speakers rattle, and with them the crowd begins to stir as the opening continues to play, rhythmic and angry. Noise from the crowd rolls through like a cold draft in a sealed room, a few cheers, a few chants. But mostly unease.


Whispered, the lyric doesn't rise above the crowd but cuts under it, precise and personal. The music drops out completely, not a fade, and not a glitch, just the same as the lights as they die out entirely. But then, detonation as the bass slams back in without warning, twisted and violent, louder than before. Strobe lights erupt in a manic wash of toxic green, casting sharp, flickering shadows across the sate. It's disorienting, like a spotlight wielded as a weapon. Motionless in that moment, Dickie Watson stands framed in light. No grand pose, no war cry, hair falling in his face and shoulders loose like man who doesn't need to prove he belongs here -- he already knows he does. 

He holds this, eyes floating over everyone, and then moves a beat later. Not with urgency, not with showmanship. Just steps forward like the rest of the world is moving slower than him. He doesn't look to the sides, doesn't soak it in. He's not here for the moment, he's here for the thrill. Every movement is precise, like a blade being unsheathed. Quiet, measured. He walks down the ramp towards the ring, eyes still glancing off to the side, turning his head slightly to acknowledge fans and enemies alike. At the barricade, he reaches out and slaps a few hands not necessarily out of respect, but more of obligation. These are the people who kept him alive for so long, and what he does this for. 

He rounds the corner to right, bypasses the steps, and jumps, both feet hitting the apron in one clean lift. Without grabbing the ropes, without pause, he slings himself over the top and lands near the dead center of the ring, bent knees taking the brunt of his leap. He circles the ring once, loose-limbed, cracking his neck slightly, and stops. Near the far corner, he crouches with his elbows on his knees, fingers dangling inbetween as his music fades. 


In-Ring Style (Technician? High Flyer?): Highflyer with the flow of Lucha and Hardcore
Dickie fights like someone who's run out fucks to give but still wants to make it look pretty. He's fast, unpredicatble and calculated in the chaos. 


10 or More Standard Moves:
STANDING
Wheelbarrow Arm Drag
Open-handed Chops
Facebreaker DDT
Jumping Neckbreaker
Fireman's Carry dropped into an Overhead Kick
Brainbuster
Double Chickenwing Double Knee Gutbuster
Michinoku Driver
Tiger Suplex
Multiple Kick Variations (Dropkick, Enziguri, Super, Roundhouse, Spin etc.)
Double Knee Backbreaker
Tilt-a-Whirl DDT
Running Crossbody
Hurricanrana / Poison-Rana
Back handspring followed by a backflip kick (used primarily mid reversal)
Spanish Fly (could also use an Avalanche variant)
Sunset Flip Powerbomb (standing, avalanche, off of ring apron to floor. etc.)
Corkscrew Roundhouse Kick
Blue Thunder Bomb

GROUNDED
Standing Shooting Star Press
Basement Dropkick
Spiked Hurricanrana to kneeling opponent
Cross-Armbreaker/Armbar
Running Knee Drop / Strike to grounded / kneeling opponent
Rapid Fire Stomps to opponent's chest
Running Legdrop
Repeated Elbow Drops
Guillotine Choke
Standing Corkscrew Moonsault

AERIAL
No-Handed Springboard Moonsault
Somersault Senton
Diving Crossbody
Suicide Dive
Springboard Tornado DDT
Ropewalking Diving Splash
Springboard Front Dropkick
Corkscrew Plancha
Diving Double Knee (Meteora) to opponents shoulders (standing/sitting)
Shooting Star Press
Double Jump Moonsault
Cartwheel into an over the top rope corkscrew suicide senton or a suicide plancha

Trademark Moves 
1. RISE TO GLORY
CURBSTOMP

2. MOLOTOV COCKTAIL
THE 619

3. MILLENNIAL FALLOUT
BRIDGING GERMAN SUPLEX

4. NEVER SURRENDER
DIVING DOUBLE UNDERHOOK FACEBUSTER

5. THE ECHELON
360 CORKSCREW MOONSAULT

Finishing Move
Finishing Moves: Maximum three (3) and one (1) optional Super Finisher (SF)
1. DICKIE'S REVENGE PRIMARY
MODIFIED LIFTING REVERSE STO

2. ADRENALINE
PHOENIX SPLASH

3. CALAMITY INSURANCE DESPERATION
THE CAVE-IN

OF. ZERO FAITH
AVALANCHE INVERTED DDT (TORNADO ROTATION)

Favorite Hardcore Attacks/Spots:
Fast-Paced anything; Dickie has quite a bit of agility behind him due to his smaller stature. He likes moving quick, he likes pushing the limits, and he likes those show stopping moments where you ask yourself: "Jesus, is he going to kill himself today?!"

Additional Notes:
Tendency to Cheat:
- [x] Never
He's not a cheater. Period. Not out of some moral superiority, but because it dilutes the outcome. A win by shortcuts isn't a win at all. If he loses, he wants to know why. If he wins, he wants it to mean something .He's violent, he's volatile, but he's not cheap. 

Motivation to Compete:
- [x] Passion; he loves wrestling and don't care about winning or losing, just fighting.
- [x] Glory; he says it doesn't matter, but that's a lie. He wants to be remembered.
- [x] Going for Gold; Titles don't define him, but they do validate him. He's been told too many times he doesn't act, look, react like champion and he will keep proving otherwise.
- [x] FAMILIAL; Everyone he's called family once left him behind. Every match is a quiet middle finger to the people who thought he wouldn't survive without them. 
Dickie wants to win. Who DOESN'T want to win? Losing beats him down and makes him feel worthless, but it's only temporary and he knows that. He wants to prove himself. And that happens by winning.

Favorite Weapon: Dickie is the younger sibling of an extremely brutal fighter – everything is a weapon.